


deepest, most desperate desires

by Ascel



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ascel/pseuds/Ascel
Summary: It would be more bearable, he thinks, if the mirror showed him Gellert coming back to him apologetic and repentant, ready to cower and abandon all of his – all of their – plans in the name of Albus. Or Gellert brought down, forced to admit he was wrongdoing, forced to atone. Or even some wild, impossible way to undo everything that happened, everything that stands between them.---Or: Albus, in front of the mirror.





	deepest, most desperate desires

_"(...) he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made out of, his and mine are the same."_

_ Emily Brontë, "Wuthering Heights"  
_

 

 

When first he stood in front of the Mirror of Erised, he was still a student at Hogwarts. Back then, it had only shown him himself, and it wasn't anything he didn't already know about himself. He wanted to succeed, to make a difference. He knew he was an exceptional wizard, he knew what power was at his disposal. In his arrogance, he thought all he dreamt of, the power and ability to change the world, would simply be his once he finished school. A picture in the mirror could only be a confirmation of that, nothing else.

Back then, he didn't think his life could be anything but exceptional, and so the mirror had no hold over him.

Later – later, after his mother's death, after Ariana's – he thinks what the mirror has shown him should've been a warning. A picture of how selfish and arrogant he truly was, because even when his sister was suffering, even when his mother was trapped in a house with no one to help her or keep her company, he only wanted to forget them. A perfect life, where for once his family wouldn't get in a way.

He's found the mirror once again, when he became a professor at Hogwarts, but this time he hated what it had showed him. But he came back.

He has stood in front of this mirror countless times since then. He comes back, again and again, and the picture never changes.

It's a terrible thing he learns about himself.

He knows what he should see: both of his parents, still alive. Aberfoth, smiling at him like he hadn't done in years. Ariana, his poor, poor little sister, unhurt and whole, young bright witch she might've been, if only...

But the mirror only shows him one person.

It would be more bearable, he thinks, if the mirror showed him Gellert coming back to him apologetic and repentant, ready to cower and abandon all of his – all of their – plans in the name of Albus. Or Gellert brought down, forced to admit he was wrongdoing, forced to atone. Or even some wild, impossible way to undo everything that happened, everything that stands between them.

But he only sees Gellert, as he is now and he was back then, and himself, younger and full of hope and love. A promise they made, to never harm one another, never stand against each other, to always be as one. A moment he was happiest and the only person who had truly understood him.

He doesn't want Gellert to be sorry, or brought down, or cowering. He only wants what he once had.

 

 

He came back to Hogwarts because he needed a place to be safe. Safe from temptations of power and mistakes he could make, safe from memories which still lingered in Godric's Hollow. Safe from himself, mostly – and where others would be safe from him, too.

In the beginning, it is almost simple. Teaching is hard work, never repetitive, and it keeps him on his toes. Dealing with young wizards, it turns out, is like trying to herd a bunch of cats – you can try telling them what to do and they may even do it, but only at their own terms and in their own time. They want things to be interesting, and they hate sitting in one place for more than ten minutes, and they are twice as likely to follow newest teenaged drama as they are to actually listen to him.

It's exhausting and demanding and leaves him no time to think, to dwell on useless dreams and make grand plans. It's penance, a little bit, when he gives those children what he never could bring himself to give to Ariana: time and attention and endless patience. Slowly, so slowly, he starts feeling at peace with himself.

Then he starts to hear what Gellert is doing.

 

 

There are rumours coming from the continent. Rumours and hearsay and nothing concrete.

It's all Albus needs. He knows what Gellert wants to do, how he wants to do it, what steps he will take. They made those plans together.

There are whispers, too, of speeches made and words spoken. How power is entwined with responsibility; how wizards cannot eschew their obligations to guide those who were born lesser, to educate and guard them, and ultimately to rule. If they were ever to use force, it could only be whatever would be necessary, and only for the greater good. And, in the end, wouldn't the benefit of all outweigh these few sacrifices?

Then, of course, these were Albus' own words, written in endless letters coming back and forth, repeated in lazy conversations when the sun was too bright and too hot, whispered under the summer stars in his most vulnerable moments, like promises of love. It wasn't so long ago.

Grindelwald, he hears, is very persuasive. Seductive, even. Able to capture hearts and minds of every audience, a visionary with charisma unmatched. Dangerous maniac with an army of puppets and too much power.

But he already knew that.

In the moments of weakness he imagines a simpler world. One in which Grindelwald seduced and manipulated him, used him for his own gain, and then ran away once Albus had nothing left. Where everything that happened between them was a lie, a falsehood created by an evil, amoral man.

It's not a better world, or a kinder one.

He imagines other worlds, too: ones in which they hadn’t argued with Abeforth, or maybe the curse hadn't rebounded, or maybe no one had spoken it, and his sister lived. Where would he be now, if that was true? Hiding at Hogwarts or fighting Grindelwald openly, as he should be? Or, maybe, not opposing him at all?

Would that be a kinder world?

He thinks he knows the answer, and cannot bear to think of it.

But there's still this truth: Gellert was the only person to ever truly know him, to understand all of him. All of his parts: hopes, and dreams, and darkest desires. Who could match his intellect and thirst for knowledge, a need to prove what he could be to the world. No one else had ever looked at him like Gellert did. Like he could read Albus very soul.

Of course he's afraid to face Gellert. Most days Albus can barely stand to look at himself.

 

 

He does face Gellert, in the end. It's rather like looking into a mirror.

 

 

Many, many years later, after another Dark Lord had risen and fell, after another war was done and yet still brewing, one night, he finds little boy standing in front of a mirror.

Harry Potter is a child that is too short and too thin for his age; who flinches when an adult raises their voice and doesn't know what to do when someone acts affectionate towards him. Who spend most of his life with people who despised and feared what he was and what he could do, even if he didn't know it yet. He's a child who spends his Christmas alone, hiding in an empty classroom with a mirror that shows him family which he had never known.

This war, Albus thinks, this was that will come to be will make for a better story than his own war ever could. Harry Potter will be a better hero, not because Albus will make him into one – and he will, he will, he has to; there is no other choice – but because he is already one. He is filled with so much love and it's a good love, pure love, the kind of love that can stop the killing curse. So of course it will be love – love Lily had for her son, love Harry will grow into – which will stand against Voldemort's hatred.

It will make for a good story. A boy filled with love, brave and true, against a man who has none.

Dumbledore can only wish his own story was so straightforward.

(Here's a trick: he won't be able to get the philosopher's stone out of the Mirror of Erised, even if he was so inclined. He never was able to change what the mirror had shown him. Harry, though. Harry might, and how is this for a test?)

Dumbledore lies when young Harry asks him what he sees in the mirror. Of course he does. It's a personal question, after all, and he has no easy answers. Certainly none suitable for a child. He does wish he had seen socks; it's a simple answer and a simple need. Still, he would like to see his family more, though he could say that no more that he could say the truth. What he sees in the Mirror of Erised hasn't changed in almost a hundred years.

When Albus looks in the mirror, Gellert's mismatched, laughing eyes look straight back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I have a lot of thoughts about this.
> 
> A fragment of this has been previously posted on tumblr. You can find it [here](http://dobranocka.tumblr.com/post/181016317988/deepest-most-desperate-desires).


End file.
